


Harry, I'm Sorry | A Tomarry Fanfiction

by Hufflepuff_King



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Gay, HarryPotter - Freeform, Hogwarts, M/M, Rape, Sexual Content, Smut, Soul Bond, Time Travel, Yaoi, bxb - Freeform, harry - Freeform, tom - Freeform, tomriddle, tomxharry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-21 10:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21297995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hufflepuff_King/pseuds/Hufflepuff_King
Summary: A life of pain given for a life of vain.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	1. A voice

_A dark body loomed over bright crimson mixed with misshapen body parts covered in dark maroon. A contrast to fresh and rotten. Deep, blood-curdling chuckles of torment scrapped across the walls, like a clock tormenting you with each tick, an everlasting wait of something unpleasant. The man couldn't be seen, darkness surrounding everything. Protruding bones rubbed against cold, blood-covered tiles. Painful. A word seemingly so bland to the body that it wasn't even a joke. Excruciating seemed more like it. Black and purple bruises seemed to be the shade of skin, the only pale white on hands and face; all a soul-wrenching concoction._

_Fear; an emotion that dwells in the chest for every waking second. Even if it was a life filled with this pain and this hatred. Fear was still a definite factor that took a toll on a life. It tore it down like wallpaper from a wall and rip it up to little shreds. This body wasn't some stupid house that is getting revamped, they are a life and should be treated as such. Not vermin or a rag doll. They were used and hated, blood constantly spilling and pain forever lingering._

_The short and overly fat body came closer and closer, a light slowly illuminating them. At first, it was a face, it was such a disgusting face, one with layers of fat and more skin due to that which gave it a rounded look. He had facial hair and had a malicious look in his eyes. It was terrifying._

_A face slowly grew to shoulders and so forth; revealing a very much naked man. Rolls of fat came down, his body looking like a pit of tar as it swung in his steps. Two more and he was in front of the very frail and crimson covered body. A wicked look on his face. "Don't you dare move or say a word boy, I'm sure you will enjoy it." More torturous chuckles echoed through the walls and the fear rose with the smell of death. Rotting blood that was weeks and months old was such a pungent smell. It, however, worsened with every day._

_The man got down onto his knees and viciously grabbed the legs; a whimper of pain accidentally slipped out. Causing anger to fill the horrid man. He roughly threw the small body over so their back was facing the ceiling. Pain. Pain and more pain coursed through the body, never coming to a stop which made a burning sensation fly over; like needles poking under the skin then back out constantly everywhere._

_Suddenly, with a harsh movement, there was burning within them, not just the skin. A feeling like no other. Not only was the pain worse it made them feel dirty and disgusting within themself to have such thing inside them. This man was doing the worst imaginable and was moaning with it. Kindness wasn't something shown, instead; hands held the body down and held buttcheeks so far apart it was almost tearing. Fast and rough thrusts were only to pleasure himself and with each one, it felt worse and worse. A sobbing couldn't be stopped which only made the treatment worse. Scarlet trickled down and the man grabbed their member; twisting and pulling in a sadistic manner._

_This went on for what seemed like hours until a new body entered the frame. This one; even in the light not being able to be seen. Heavy footsteps and hard breathing the only sounds as the body ran over and knocked the fat man away. Yelling and words of spells silencing the room. Sobs and shuffling the final sounds._

_"I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I will protect you. I promise Harry."_

Harry awoke with a jolt, sweat coating his bruised and malnourished body. He started to quietly sob as the nightmare's every moment filled his memories. The nightmare was a memory of a horrid night but the only odd thing was a voice. A voice he knew he would remember. A voice that saved him.

He couldn't dwell on the thought for long as his body itched and burned. He felt disgusting to have had Vernon's hands on him in such a way. In response, he got out of bed with some fresh clothes and rushed to the shower. He needed to scrub his body no matter how much it hurt to get the touch off. The water was boiling hot but that didn't matter to Harry; his skin use to such temperatures. He scrubbed and scrubbed; skin becoming raw and parts peeling off around old wounds and scars. The feeling never left and he spent hours there, water running cold as he used so much. Potter ended up sobbing under the water; curled up into a ball with watered-down blood running down the drain.

The only comfort was the voice in the nightmare. Which that didn't even do much for him.


	2. Time Tear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He's like all of you, young and innocent."

The halls of Hogwarts stood dignified, their arches coming together in thick branches. Similar to a tree, it held its wise and influential appearance. There for years; people didn't stop to look or even bat an eyelid, just like a tree. It held everything together and heard everything that was spoken. All the secret conversations about he who must not be named and all the little stupid things kids would splutter.

Words upon words wear spoken between the walls but none were repeated. A secret the walls kept them which was scary. For at night they saw some dreadful things. They saw crimson and purple, heard cries and laughter. They saw and heard everyone's life. Even Harry's.

Grey hair hid its tips under a belt and was unkempt yet was stained by the fact of it normally looking tidy and neat. A telltale of what was to happen. Footsteps hurried down the halls with hushed talking until they came to an abrupt stop. A face of wrinkles and old skin covered in hair turned to face another. The others face had old looking skin but was only just past his thirties; pleats of mishap and trauma. His nose was crooked and eyes drained of life yet he continued, just like everyone else.

"Dumbledor, you are putting everyone in danger by allowing this," Snap snapped in his low monotone voice. He kept as quiet as he could, not wanting anyone else to eavesdrop on the conversation the two where having. Although he wasn't the headmaster of Hogwarts he still felt some authority and was far from afraid to challenge Albus as he pleased.

Albus Dumbledore on the other hand although hating having been spoken to in such a manner kept a neutral tone. "He is just a boy, he hasn't done the things Lord Voldemort has done, he may not even remember it." He spoke calmly to the counterpart. "I know Potter is who you care for as he is the only hold you have to Lily, nobody is at risk professor Snape." Dumbledor retorted. He believed in the young Tom Riddle, for he knew what he was like as a child. He just hoped that someone could change him.

With a flick of his cape, Snape turned and stormed his way down the rest of the hall. He would do everything in his power to protect Lily's eyes. He may act like he hates Harry but deep down he loves the boy as much as he would love a son, even if he had no idea of the abuse Harry succumbs to. If he did, surely he would keep the boy safe.

Unlike Dumbledor.

* * *

A boy previously during the day showed up in a room of natural colours of wood. Dark to light, light to dark the colours danced in harmony and made the room look complete. The walls practically a bookshelf; a kingdom of knowledge. The room itself was extensive, spacious being a word no longer able to be used upon anything else. A large oak desk with a throne like chair tucked behind it in the centre; just under a pillared arch, stairs leading up in a curved manner to make anyone standing there look important. Which is where he stood.

Brown hair was ruffled up in a waved mess, clothes stretched and torn and a shoe missing made this boy seem even more interesting and out of place. As if he had been pulled through a rip of time. That was what would be said has happened until proved otherwise. Breathing was heavy, tired and drained. Yet otherwise innocent eyes glanced around the room.

All was forgotten when eyes met the walls, all the books were heaven for this boy. He liked reading, he loved learning. He wanted to read them all. Dumbledor had spoken with him and for now, he waited; looking through the books on the wall and picking up a few to read. If he could he would stay here until he read every single one but knew he couldn't do that.

While he was reading, Dumbledor had called all the teachers and students to the great hall where they sat in rows on tables of their houses. They muttered to each other, coming up with different reasons why they may have been called upon. Some were stupid but others fairly close.

"Silence!" His voice boomed through the room and it went silent before he started talking properly.

"Right everyone, a certain boy has shown up today. We right now do not know how he has gotten here but we are looking into it. He is the same age as some of you and will act like a lot of you. Like a normal child. He has shown up and I intend that he stays and is to be looked after, with caution though of course but nonetheless treated no differently to you." His eyes scanned over the room before continuing. "His name is Tom Riddle. All of you know him as Lord Voldemort but he is not at that stage of life yet, he is still young and hasn't done any of the things that have made us hate him. He may not even know he has done them. Bear this in mind and be kind. Let's try and change the coarse of his future." Everyone was being addressed, professors as well and Dumbledor made sure they knew that. "I know you may be frightened but none of you will be harmed, he is so innocent to this world, like every child. He isn't a monster quite yet."

He finished speaking and the students started talking again, shocked, scared and angry by the news. Of course, some would follow orders but others refused. They believed Tom didn't deserve to be here or to even be alive. Others wanted to run and hide.

What they all didn't know was that Harry wasn't in the room. He had no idea of this affair.


	3. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Please don't go."

Pain. Withering and torturous pain; so much pain the complexion is ashen. His naturally pale skin has sunken in tone to something so lifeless it would scare anyone just to look at him. His eyes close and he sucks himself into a deeper place to cope, well in attempts to anyway. He clutched at the bedsheets to try and minimise the pain. It barely seems enough, yet his heart rate comes down almost twenty beats per minute. He's been in this dark place before, felt more pain than a human body could bear, it happened every summer and a few times over the course of the year.

Slowly he tried to get up but quickly realized how futile it was when he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out; everyone already seemed to hate him and he had no idea why. Sharp pain laced through his head and colourful spots flashed in front of his eyes, it felt like his whole body had been beaten without the evidence and every movement caused some muscle or bone to ache. Regardless, he needed to get out of here to try and escape the pain.

Wincing In pain he started to grab the corners of desks and at the cracks in the wood to help him pull himself out of the dorm. He was careful to not look at the students that stared at him in anger as he did. The pain had an unpleasant warmth to it, eating at his stomach. There's nausea within too, just enough to make him hold onto a table for support and breath slow. Tom often prized himself in ignoring the pain he had been getting over the years and just rocking on regardless, but that just isn't possible right now. It owns him, dominates every thought, controls every action. Like it was closer somehow. 

In the meantime, a boy of the same age and hair colour was in the room the other was in just a few hours before. 

Dumbledore had called the green-eyed boy who everyone knew as Harry Potter not too long ago after having realised he wasn't in the hall. Harry was terrified of this wizard; more so than the Dursleys. Which said a lot and gave anyone the idea of what Albus did to the boy behind closed doors. The man was already stressed and despite what everyone thought, he was far from a nice man. He was manipulative and cruel. Only some knew this truth. 

Pulling out his wand; Dumbledore's eyes turned from blue to steel in a matter of seconds, a sadistic part of him pulling its way through the cracks of his dead heart. Words faded into the air as quickly as they were spoken, Harry collapsing to the hard floor. His body seemed to shrivel and come in on itself. The worst pain imaginable but out of force he couldn't scream or cry out; instead silent tears rolled down pink cheeks. 

"Crucio," Dumbledore repeated the words over and over again, his wand constantly swooping over Harry's withering body. The man watched with an icy gaze, the pain was as if giant hands grabbed his body and started twisting like a Chinese burn all over, cracking and crunching echoed through the walls, bruises quickly forming but a spell was cast to stop any death or such. The cruellest thing alive was that spell, Dumbledore could do anything to the boy without him dying. Most would be dead or have had their hearts stop due to the intense amount of pain being received constant waves.

The pain was like no other and despite this Harry still prefered to be here than at his so-called home. This would happen once or twice over the year but there it was a daily occurrence of pain, blood and gaping wounds. It was emotional torture and the burn of his skin. He hated being there, he hated how it found him even in the darkest corners of slumber. He hated being alive. 

His body grew weak and tired, as his life source came in and out, fluttering about like a butterfly of death; so delicate and so pretty. A thing those are drawn close to but one touch and life is no more. This is were Dumbledore stopped and chuckled softly, seeing the boy as pathetic. He knew about the abuse Harry got at home but he far from cared about that. He let it happen and took advantage of it. "Get up." He demanded, his voice low and sickening. "Now."

Harry scumbled to his feet in fear and pain, his body aching and destroying him but also giving him the push to run. His body felt all mushed and twisted from the unforgivable curse, his body having gotten used to him being crumpled up. Leaving the doors, Harry did his best to act as normal as humanly possible despite what just happened. His cheeks were red and he looked sick. 

Yet, there was Tom; fear struck Harry again but he could also see the pain in the eyes of the other. And Tom the pain in Harry's. 

Tom's chest felt uneasy like he was on a ship and it was rocking against the wind of a storm. He couldn't take his eyes off the boy, as if they were meant to be upon him. He didn't know who he was or anything but that didn't mean he wasn't curious. Lost in his emotions of happiness, pain and confusion he didn't notice Harry run off. 

_"Please don't go." Tom thought; it ringing through their minds._


	4. You're Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Tom Riddle isn't all that he was.

**"Please don't go."**

That voice. Harry recognised it from somewhere, somewhere dark and dingey. It caused Harry to stop in his tracks, staring blankly at the ground. The constant use of crucio in the past twenty minutes causing an aching of his memories, like a hoard of flesh-eating maggots eating away at his abuse ridden brain. Until it clicked. The voice. The voice without a picture now had a body and a name. Harry shuddered at the remembrance of such a rancid nightmare but this boy, Tom Riddle; the boy that once grew and killed his parents, the boy that caused all this suffering and now stood here was also the boy that protected him in the nightmare, he was the boy that stopped Vernon raping him further.

However, that didn't explain anything. It just confused Harry even more. He was normally such a good thinker but his body ached and burned with pain like nothing else. He didn't understand a single thing in this moment. Why was Tom there in the first place? Why did he even save Harry? How is Tom talking in his mind? Then again, surely it was just a nightmare and Harry's mind was the one to fathom such an idea. Tom wasn't actually there that night. Was he? 

Slowly, Harry turned around, his feet making a box as he knew to spin around as any other person would do would cause torturous pain to spread through his entire being. He didn't expect the boy to be there but to his surprise he was. He looked rather sad in himself and it caused unwanted guilt to seep through Harry's skin. He gave Tom a weak and confusing smile, keeping his distance but now paying attention to the boy. He feared him. Of course, he feared him. He had killed his parents and subjected him to this life of torture and torment. Even if he was still a child and hadn't even done such yet. Harry knew he one day would.

Tom felt so alone, he had always felt alone as a child as he had no one but for some reason, all this was much worse. He could see people's fear and anger but he did not know why. It was as if he was an enemy to them all like he was a vile monster that didn't deserve a single nicety. Although, that wasn't even what stung him the most. He didn't know Harry nor did he even know his name but felt a connection towards him, he didn't understand it himself. All he understood was that he didn't want this boy to go, he wanted company and he wanted to know why he was in pain. Was it for the same reason as him? Or something far worse? 

He didn't expect the boy to have heard him and his brows furrowed in confusion. He knew he didn't speak his mind out loud. So the only explanation was that he had heard his thoughts. Something thought to be impossible but nothing was impossible in the wizarding world. Seeing the boy's face instead of the back of his head warmed Riddle's heart. He couldn't resist a sigh of relief. 

Knowing the boy was in far more pain than he himself he pushed himself away from the wall and took a few cautious steps towards him. It caused a burning pain like he had just come in from the bitter kiss of winter air. That wasn't all as fear rose in the atmosphere; stopping Tom from moving any closer. "It's okay, Don't be scared." He spoke softly in attempts to soothe the boy. '_I'm not some monster.' _He thought, and again Harry heard. More guilt spread and a sad look echoed this. He didn't speak though, instead his thoughts managed to clear. '_I'm sorry,'_ He thought in hopes Tom could also hear his thoughts. To his surprise, Tom's facial expression proved so. 

"Oh, It's okay!" He grinned, Happy to somehow be talking to someone. Tom could see in Harry's eyes that he was growing weaker by the moment and that his legs weren't going to hold him up much longer. "I'm going to come over to you, I see you are in pain and I'm going to help you to that bench over there okay? Okay." Tom spoke, not letting Harry really have a say but explaining what he was going to do so the other didn't freak out on him. Harry's eyes held fear but he didn't resist, he forced himself to let Tom do as he wished and if he did plan on hurting him, who truly cared? He was use to being hurt no matter who it was. He swallowed hard and his teeth grazed his bottom lip; Tom getting closer and closer. 

Soon, Tom was right by his side. One arm wrapped around Harry, the other on his shoulder. Harry was covered in black, blue and purple. Every inch of his body would burn at the slightest touch. First Harry flinched; closing his eyes tightly as he waited for the pain of someone touching him to come but instead, a soothing sensation sparkled in the places Tom touched him. He was led over to the bench with minimal pain and Tom helped him sit; taking a seat beside him. _'Thank you.' _Harry thought, looking over to the other boy for a few moments. 

Tom listened and shrugged his shoulders slightly. He truly wasn't the monster everyone thought. He was sweet, kind and caring to anyone that let him. "You could talk you know, I would love to hear your proper voice." He spoke in the open; leaning against the wall that sat behind the bench the pair sat on. He wondered the boy's name and hoped to soon learn it.

With a frown, Harry shook his head nervously. He couldn't speak, he hadn't been able to for a good few years now. Ever since he started Hogwarts to be precise. Vernon thought it would be fun and wise to perform a little surgery on him so he couldn't make any friends. It didn't work but was excruciatingly painful and has indeed made Harry's life harder. Vernon had cut open Harry's throat, found his vocal cords and cut them with a pair of old scissors without any sort of pain relief. It had gotten dreadfully infected with all sorts of stuff, maggots and flys ate their way through the rotting flesh and preventing it to heal, green and yellow puss constantly leaking out from it. However, before he could die from the infection Dumbledore fixed the wound up; keeping him without his voice. He was always the one at the hands of disgusting men. 

Confused, Tom tilted his head and turned so he was facing Harry; pulling his legs up into the wood and crossing them. "So, you cant talk hm?" He asked kindly. Patiently waiting for the boy's reply before quickly jumping in. "Oh! What's your name?" He asked quickly. Seeing Tom's interest in him Harry eased up a little more, somewhat actually enjoying the time they were spending together. 

_'No, I can't.' _He thought and lifted his head to show Tom the scar. He always told a lie about the true reason behind the scar but he couldn't lie about him not having some sort of surgery. He just made sure not to mention names and how it was abuse. Tom didn't know his name though? Now that was strange._ 'Its Harry.'_

Maybe Tom didn't know what he does in the future after all. Maybe he didn't have to turn out that way. After all, he was so sweer now.


End file.
